


Angel of Mercy

by curiouslyblessed



Category: The A-Team (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2018-07-22 11:15:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7435102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiouslyblessed/pseuds/curiouslyblessed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Los Angeles VA Hospital has a new nurse in charge of the third shift. Murdock finds Nurse Sayers ideally suited to the position, until she starts forgetting people's names and which pills are theirs. Can he figure out her erratic behavior before it's too late?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I've never been good at summaries so please forgive me for that atrocity attatched to the beginning of this fic. Second, I know this plot has been done before. Third, I have finished this entire monster (it's 11k words right now), but I wanted to post it in bits. Here's the first bit, hope you like it.

The secure psychiatric ward of the Los Angeles VA Hospital was hectic on the best of days. On April 1st, it was pure chaos. One of the orderlies found a rubber snake coiled around his ankles. Three of the patients were treated for minor abrasions received while trying to hide in the drop ceilings. Someone strung Ace bandages between the light fixtures. So when the head nurse called everyone together for an announcement, they all assumed it was to talk about the whoopee cushion that had inexplicably made its way onto her chair that morning.

Nurse Green cleared her throat louder than was strictly necessary. “This,” she raised her voice over the light buzz of the gathered patients, “is Nurse Sayers. She is the new nurse in charge of the third shift. I want you all to treat her with the same dignity and respect that you treat me.”

Captain HM Murdock rolled his eyes. The whoopee cushion on her seat was proof enough of the dignity and respect she was treated with on a regular basis. He ran his eyes over the new nurse. She had dark hair, dark eyes, and a clear complexion with little roses of color in her cheeks. Her age was impossible to guess, but if he had to, she was no more than thirty-two. She was the picture perfect nurse; the one that most men dreamed about. Nurse Green’s voice snapped him back to the present.

“Why don’t you introduce yourself to the patients?”

Nurse Sayers took a step forward, the sensible heel of her shoe clicking against the linoleum tiles. “Good evening, gentlemen,” her voice was soft and she spoke with a certain lilting cadence that was pleasing to the ear. “My name is Agatha Sayers and as Nurse Green said, I am going to be in charge of the third shift from now on. I did my internship at LA General in 198- and I’ve worked at two wards specializing in mental heath since then. Do any of you have any questions?”

The silence from the patients was deafening.

Murdock raised his hand.

“Yes,” she greeted his interest with a bright smile.

“HM Murdock, Captain, retired. You clearly have good prospects, nurse. What are you doing here?”

Nurse Green made an uncomfortable noise in the back of her throat.

The smile faltered for an unmistakable second. “I became a nurse to help those in need, Captain Murdock. I can’t do that in a fancy sanitarium for ladies with nervous disorders brought on by too much housework. When this position became available, I jumped at the chance to transfer. Is there anything else?”

He shook his head.

“Good,” Nurse Green exclaimed. “Now, Nurse Sayers, I’d like to show you the lounge.” Her voice trailed off as she and Nurse Sayers made their way down the hallway.

The April Fool’s festivities came to an abrupt halt after Nurse Green’s announcement. No one was quite sure how the new nurse would react to their shenanigans. Murdock spent the rest of the evening trying to pick out the new nurse’s mannerisms.

All the nurses had their little quirks. Nurse McDowell never smiled, not even once. Nurse Khan always thought over her words before she spoke them. Nurse Trout, despite her watery name, had a dry sense of humor. After a few hours of careful observation, he finally figured it out. Nurse Sayers always called everyone by their proper rank, no matter how long ago they earned it.

As he waited in line for his nightly dose of pills, he noticed another, more annoying, quirk. She always counted the pills twice when she administered them. This also meant that the wait was twice as long.

The man standing in front of him turned and spoke. “Every time we get a new nurse the wait time for pills always goes up.”

Murdock shrugged. “She wants to make sure that everyone gets the right ones.”

The man sighed into his mustache. “I should not have to wait for a half hour for two pills.”

“Then I’d get movin’ if I were you ‒ it’s your turn.”

“Name please?” Nurse Sayers smiled at the man, her eyes crinkling at the sides.

He squared his shoulders and faced her. “Dietrich, Captain Hans Maximilian.”

She shuffled the little paper cups sitting in front of her and made a discreet mark on her clipboard. “Here you are, _Herr Hauptmann, Gute Nacht_.”

He paused. “ _Du sprichst Deutsch?_ ”

“ _Ja,_ ” she continued on in German for a few moments and Murdock lost track of the words as they spilled off her tongue. He watched in wonder as Captain Dietrich smiled. He’d never seen the captain so much as smirk. But there he was, grinning at the nurse like a lovestruck kid.

“ _Gute Nacht,_ Nurse Sayers,” he paused for a moment before continuing in English, “I would like to speak with you again soon if it is agreeable. I haven’t had much opportunity to use my German since I came to this place.”

“Of course! I’ll be here tomorrow night if you want to talk.”

Captain Dietrich took his pills and shuffled off, still smiling.

Murdock stepped forward for his pills. “I’ve never seen him smile before,” he commented, taking his them with a little sip of water.

She glanced at the captain’s retreating figure. “I’m glad I could bring him joy.”

He watched her start counting pills for the person behind him. One, two, three, four, etc. As she counted them the second time, he knew she was the right person for their ward.

What finally clinched his conviction was the way she dealt with Face.

The first time Face tried to run a con past her was magnificent. It was just after midnight and it was raining. He rushed into the ward, dripping wet and clearly in a hurry. “Excuse me,” he pointed at her name tag as he read it, “Nurse Sayers, who’s in charge here?”

“I am,” she raised her eyebrows and looked him over. “Can I help you with something, Mr…”

He held out his hand. “It’s doctor‒Dr. Martinez.”

“Are we expecting you?”

Face was used to minor interference when running cons. He didn’t miss a beat. “Didn’t my secretary call you?” He sighed expressively. “The help these days just keeps getting worse and worse,” he removed his sopping wet coat and let it drip on the spotless floor.

Nurse Sayers’ eyes drifted to one of the other nurses on duty. “I do. Now, how may I help you?”

“All business, I like you. I’m here for Captain HM Murdock,” he reached into the pocket of his coat and removed a dripping piece of paper. “Oh,” he groaned. “Will you look at that,” he held the paper at arm’s length. “Those were my transfer orders for Captain Murdock,” he made an exasperated noise. “He’s supposed to stay at the hospital in San Diego for the next two weeks! What am I supposed to do now?”

At this point, Murdock made his scheduled appearance. He strode up to Face, hands in his pockets. “Good t’ see you, Doc. I’m all packed and ready for my two weeks at the good ol’ San Diego Funny Farm.”

Face gave Nurse Sayers a pleading look. “Just listen to him. So excited, so optimistic.”

She took the still dripping paperwork from his hands and eyed the bleeding ink. “From what I can see everything is in order,” she silenced Face’s celebratory exclamation with a withering look. “However, I cannot release this man into your custody, Mr. Peck.”

The blood drained from his face. “W-What did you call me?”

Murdock had never heard Face stutter before.

“It’s no use, Mr. Peck. Did you think all the nurses here were silly young things? Or that we were all weak-willed pushovers who never watched the news? Your face, and your friends’ faces, have been plastered all over the papers and the newscasts for weeks. It seems that your last escape was just a little too daring to be ignored by the press. While I appreciate your desire to the help Captain Murdock escape, I cannot let you interfere with his treatment.”

Murdock cleared his throat. “Nurse Sayers?”

“Yes, captain?”

“It’s not like that. I’m not trying to escape. See, there’s this little girl down in Texas. Her name is Maria,” he paused. Was it his imagination, or did Nurse Sayers’ mouth twitched at the mention of the little girl? “We helped her and her mama out of some trouble down in Mexico a few years back ’n we sponsored the both of them through the whole naturalization process. Well, she’s in trouble again. Some men are trying to take advantage of her. Without me, the team has to drive. They’d never make it in time.”

She chewed her lower lip. “How serious is this?”

Murdock glanced at Face.

“They’re threatening to burn down the shop and kidnap the little girl,” Face put his coat back on. “We don’t have much time.”

She sighed, looking at the sodden paperwork. “You promise you’ll be back in two weeks?”

Murdock nodded. “Promise.”

Nurse Sayers turned and took a folder out of the nearby cabinet. She rifled through the pages until she found the correct one. “Sign this, Mr. Peck.”

He did.

“If Captain Murdock isn’t back within two weeks, I will raise every alarm imaginable. And if you ever try this stunt again, I will not hesitate to turn you into the army. Is that clear?”

Face swallowed. “Crystal.”

“Good,” she signed the paperwork. “Don’t get caught.”


	2. Two

They barely made Nurse Sayers’ deadline. It came down to a matter of minutes in the end. If BA hadn’t regained consciousness over LAX they would have been there in plenty of time. As it was, Face almost shoved Murdock through the swinging double doors of the ward and almost ran him down the hallway.

He slammed the bell with the flat of his hand. “Can’t you get any service in this place,” he panted. “I have a man here who needs to be checked in by 11:30!”

Nurse Liza Trout appeared, seemingly from thin air. “Would you quiet down please, sir,” she hissed, her faint Scottish burr becoming a sibilant whisper. “It is well after eleven now!”

“I know that,” Face grumbled. “But I have to have this man checked in by 11:30 or Nurse Sayers will have my guts for garters.”

She snorted and reached for a nearby clipboard. “Our Nurse Sayers? That little thing? I doubt if she could. Sign here,” she thrust the clipboard and pen into his hands with her usual brisk efficiency.

Face scribbled something that looked an awful lot like a four letter word and dropped the clipboard on the counter. He consulted his watch. “Two minutes to spare,” he breathed a sigh of relief and crossed himself. “Thank God.”

Nurse Trout shook her head and retreated to file the paperwork.

“I thought you were a _recovering_ Catholic,” Murdock commented dryly.

“Old habits die hard. Now would you get to your room before she —”

“Hello, Mr. Peck.”

He stiffened. “Nurse Sayers,” Face put on his best smile and turned to greet her. “You’ll notice that I got him back before the two weeks were up.”

“Excellent. Is he still in the same condition that he was when you left?”

“I’m not a car, y’know,” Murdock frowned at her.

“True,” she took a brisk step forward and shined her penlight in his eyes. She continued her examination by taking his pulse. “You seem well enough, captain.”

“Thank you, nurse, I try to stay healthy.”

“You cut it exceedingly close, Mr. Peck,” she pulled a stethoscope out of her pocket and listened to Murdock’s chest. “Deep breaths, please. I think the final time was 11:28.”

“We had a slight issue over LAX.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Murdock took a break from his deep breathing. “An angry golem woke up and started trashing the plane.”

She took the stethoscope from her ears. “I won’t comment on the likely veracity of that statement, Captain Murdock. However, I _will_ give you a clean bill of health.”

Face crossed himself for the second time that night. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to get home.”

“Someone warming up your bed for you, Face,” Murdock drawled.

He cleared his throat. “Goodnight, Nurse Sayers. Goodnight, Murdock.”

Murdock chuckled at his friend’s retreating figure. “I bet he does.”

“He seems like the type of man that would,” she commented. “I’m afraid its lights out for you, captain,” she touched his elbow and led him down the hall toward his room. “Did you and your friends resolve the situation in Texas?”

“The men threatening Maria and her mother go to trial next month.”

“Good,” she unlocked his room. “Have a pleasant night, captain. Oh, and I left your pills on the bedside table.”

He sat on his cot and listened to her lock the door. The pills were just where she said they would be. Two anti-depressants, an anti-psychotic, and some painkillers for when his old wounds troubled him. Murdock took one of the painkillers — the less potent of the two — and flushed the others down the toilet. He could already tell it was going to be a long night.

At two in the morning, the nightmares started. He was back in Vietnam. The jungle swam all around him, alive with noise and wildlife. But he was dead. He could feel the bullet in his shoulder, the knife in his ribs, the pieces of shrapnel from his downed helicopter in his chest. A twig cracked to his right and the whispers started. “Dead man walking,” they hissed, nowhere and everywhere at once. “Dead man walking.”

The leaves swirled at an unseen touch and he whirled to face them. They were the voices in his head given corporeal form. He was surrounded by the dead. The men he’d killed, his friends who perished in a storm of gunfire, and his fellow soldiers who died when he crashed the medevac helicopter. They pointed and spoke as one. “Dead man walking. Dead man walking.”

He tried to back away, to escape into the trees, but they were behind him. “Dead man walking. Dead man walking.”

One of the corpses touched him and he cried out as the air left his lungs. “Dead man walking. Dead man walking.”

He lay on the wet earth, gasping for air. The corpses circled closer and closer. He screamed again and—

“Captain Murdock!”

Someone was shaking him.

“Wake up, Captain Murdock, it’s only a dream!”

He opened his eyes. Nurse Sayers was sitting on the edge of his bed, leaning over him. He dully noted that her hair was brushing his face. Everything was fuzzy. She was saying something but he couldn’t quite pick the words out of the jungle sounds still swirling through his brain.

The word “captain” finally filtered through and he forced himself to focus.

“Captain, can you hear me?”

He nodded.

“Did you take the pills that I left you?”

He giggled. “Your hair tickles.”

“If you’re still having night terrors, it means that you’ve been off your medications for a lot longer than the two weeks you were gone. Captain Murdock, are you even listening?”

He scowled. His mind was taking its sweet time clearing the dream fog. “Do you always wear your hair down?”

She sighed and shook her head. “That is of no consequence. How long has it been since you’ve taken your medication?”

He shrugged. “Dunno, a month, maybe more. I’ll tell you a secret,” he sat up, pressing his face close to hers. “I don’t need them,” he whispered. “I’m not crazy.”

The sympathy fled her eyes. “Would you mind repeating that?”

Even in his befuddled state, he knew he’d made a critical error. “I— uh—”

“Captain Murdock, it came to my attention some time ago that you were extremely lucid for someone who was supposed to be insane. Would you care to explain yourself?”

He seized on the first clear thought that passed through his head. “Why is your hair down?”

“We’ve already covered that.”

“If you tell me, I’ll tell you all about how sane I am.”

Her jaw muscles clenched. “I was in the middle of braiding it when you started screaming in your sleep.”

“Why didn’t you send an orderly?”

“Mr. Jackson left at midnight and Mr. Sloane doesn’t come in until four.”

“Can I braid it for you?”

“Will you tell me what I want to know?”

“Yes.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Fine,” she turned away from him. “You can talk while you braid.”

“I’d like to start with how inappropriate it is for you to let me braid your hair.”

“Duly noted, but I had already come to that conclusion. You’re stalling.”

“Too true,” he separated her hair into three sections. “Mostly because I don’t know what to tell you. I’m not insane. Or, at least, not as insane as most of the people here think I am.”

“Then why do you stay?”

He chuckled. “There’s the little matter of treason hanging over my head. That and the hallucinations. Would you lean back a little please?”

She did. “Dr. Richter never mentioned those.”

“Probably because he doesn’t know about them,” he wove her hair skillfully around itself. “Do you have an elastic?”

“Shouldn’t he know,” she passed him one from her wrist.

“I suppose. But by the time I get around to telling him, it’ll just be me and my imaginary friend.”

She turned to face him, pulling the braid from his hands. “Your who?”

“My imaginary friend. She’s left over from when I was little.”

“What do you call her?”

He shrugged. “This and that. Mostly Rachel.”

“Is she named after someone you were close to?”

“You’re trying to psychoanalyze me. It’s not going to work.”

She wrinkled her nose. “It worked well enough a few moments ago. Now, give me one good reason not to go to Dr. Richter with what you’ve told me.”

“Tattle away, it won’t change anything.”

“Why?”

“Because he already knows I’m mostly sane. He’s been trying to convince the board for years. It never works.”

She stood. “Would you like a glass of water?”

“Changing the subject won’t change the situation.”

“It might not,” she entered the tiny bathroom and emerged moments later with a cup of water. “Here,” he took it from her with a bewildered word of thanks. “It’s an excellent braid,” she surveyed herself in his mirror. “Do you have much experience with them?”

“My grandmother taught me,” he sipped at the water, examining her closely. Her sudden change of subject felt wrong, like she was trying to deflect some hidden feelings. He wracked his brain. Was it something he’d said? Did he touch on something close to her heart without realizing it? He reflected on it for a few more moments before remembering a piece of advice Grandma Athena had given him years before.  
“If you want to know something, ask.”

“Is something wrong?” The minute he opened his mouth, he knew it was the wrong thing to say.

Her posture stiffened. “Why do you ask?”

“Just a funny feeling I have.”

Nurse Sayers scoffed and turned away from him. As she did, Murdock caught sight of a dark spot on her arm, just below the elbow. He was out of bed and across the room in seconds. “What’s that?”

“What,” she pulled back at his sudden movement.

He touched her arm and a fine powder fell from it. “Who did this to you,” he asked, brushing the last of the makeup from her bruised arm.

She avoided his gaze.

“Who did this?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“I’m fixin’ t’ make it my business. Besides, who would I tell? And if I did, who would believe me. I’m crazy, remember?”

She glared at him but didn’t answer.

“It doesn’t matter what our differences are, you’ve taken good care of us here. The way you reacted when I said I wasn’t ’really crazy,’” he made quotation marks with his fingers, “shows that you do care. Tell me.”

She touched his hand, letting her fingers curl around his for a brief moment. “I appreciate how you feel. However, there’s nothing you can do. Goodnight, Captain Murdock,” she disentangled herself from his grip and left the room.

He listened to the lock click and the sound of her retreating footsteps. “Something’s wrong,” he whispered to no one in particular. “Very wrong.”


	3. Three

The night passed at a crawl and the next day was no better. Murdock sat in the rec hall and watched the seconds tick away. When Nurse Sayers finally arrived he scrutinized her arm, trying to find the bruise from the previous night. A small patch of discolored skin was the only clue to its presence. He chastised himself for missing something so obvious. Her problem should have been apparent even to the most casual observer ‒ and he had never been a casual observer of anything.

Something was wrong. He didn't notice how wrong until Corporal McGuire brought it to light. Every week, Corporal James McGuire and his sister went out after her shift for a late supper. Nothing too fancy, just a burger and some fries at the local drive in; but James always dressed like he was going for dinner with the queen. Every Wednesday Nurse Sayers straightened his tie for him and assured him that he looked just fine. Every Wednesday, that is, except for this one.

James stood by the swinging double doors, dodging the orderlies and waiting for her to come. He twisted his hat in his hands and examined his watch. Murdock confirmed the time with the clock. It was almost 8:30 and if Nurse Sayers didn't show up soon he wold have to leave without his customary pat on the back.

At 8:40 Murdock took matters into his own hands. He ambled over to Corporal McGuire. "What's wrong, good buddy?"

The corporal twisted his watched band. "She always comes and makes sure I look good," he stole a furtive glance at Murdock. "How will I know if she doesn't come and make sure?"

Murdock bit his lower lip. He reached out and straightened the boy's lapels. "You look just fine," he tugged on Corporal McGuire's tie for good measure. "Your sister will love seein' y' in that new tie she got for you."

"You think so," his face lit up. "She always did like bright colors."

"I know so! Now get on out there and knock her socks off!"

Corporal McGuire puffed himself up and strode forward with all the confidence a man of only five feet could muster. He paused at the doors. "Thank you, captain, I don't know what we'd do without you."

Murdock shrugged. "Now go on! There's plenty of time to talk tomorrow, but right now y'all are gunna be late!"

A feeling of general worry settled over Murdock after the encounter with the corporal. If Nurse Sayers was forgetting something as important as Corporal McGuire's weekly visit to his sister, what else was she forgetting? For that matter, what was causing her lapse in memory? There were any number of unpleasant possibilities. The bruise alone had hundreds of conceivable origins.

He contemplated the most likely of them while waiting for his nightly pills. The most likely answer was an abusive spouse or relative. Murdock snuck a quick look at Nurse Sayers’ left hand. No wedding ring. It didn’t mean she wasn’t married, but it was a good indicator. While he was waiting, he noticed another worrying change in her personality. She was only counting the pills once.

He cursed his lack of observation for the second time that day as he watched administer Dietrich's pills with none of her customary care. She checked the captain's name off the list without a word before dismissing him and calling for the next patient.

Murdock shuffled up to the counter. Was it his imagination or was one of her eyes swollen and dark? He cleared his throat.

She didn’t look up from her work. “Yes, captain?”

“Who hit you?”

She froze, her hand poised over his pill cup. “What did you say,” she whispered.

He leaned forward. “Who hit you?”

“No one,” her eyes flashed angrily. “That is an inappropriate question, captain.” She slammed the cup down on the counter. “Make sure you take them tonight.”

He grabbed the cup and stalked off down the hallway, grumbling at the pills. “Who does she think she is? I’m just trying to help her!”

“You look troubled, _mein Freund_. What has gotten underneath your skin?”

Murdock frowned.

“Did I mix up my idioms again?” the captain asked, a worried look passing over his face. "It's extremely troubling speaking five languages."

“No. It’s Nurse Sayers.”

“What about her?”

“You’re not that stupid, _Herr Hauptmann_.”

The old man nodded, a slow smile spreading across his face. “ _Ja._ ”

“How do I get her to tell me what’s wrong?”

“She might not tell you.”

“Would she tell you?”

“Ha,” a brief smile crossed his lips. “Highly unlikely. Good night, _Hauptmann_ Murdock.” He started to limp down the hallway.

“Wait!" Murdock called out. "What do I do?”

Dietrich didn’t answer.

“Just what I need: more riddles.”

When the orderly announced lights out, he sat in the dark with the TV on, wracking his brain for a way to help Nurse Sayers. It was difficult to do since he didn't know what he was helping her with.

By three in the morning, his head was spinning at the same speed as his ceiling fan and the TV was broadcasting a rather intriguing bit of white noise. He was about to close his eyes and attempt sleep when he heard something.

It was a subtle noise at first. There was the sound of metal hitting tile and the telltale skittering of something spilling all over the floor. His eyes snapped open. He was at his door in an instant. The hallway was as empty as it should be at three in the morning. He stood perfectly still, waiting for something to happen.

A shuffling of footsteps came from his right and Dietrich appeared at the grate in his door. "Did you hear that," he hissed, panting slightly. "Something is not right."

"I'm with you," Murdock tried the door. It was locked. "Think you can get me out? My lockpicking skills are a little rusty."

The elderly officer smiled. "If you only knew what I used to get up to, _Hauptmann_ , it would curl your hair," the lock made a distressed popping noise and the door swung open. " _Voilà._ "

"Why, captain, I never knew you had it in you," he laid a hand on the man's shoulder. "But I've got to go solo from here. It might be--"

Dietrich whacked him in the kneecaps with his cane. Murdock deflated, grasping at his injured knee. "What was that you were going to say about me being too old and feeble to join you on your adventures?"

"N-Nothing, sir, I was just going to say that I needed a lookout in case one of the orderlies decides to show up."

"That's what I thought. I will station myself at the corner and tap out an SOS with this thing," he gestured with the cane. Murdock flinched as it came close to his knees. "If I see anyone coming."

He listened to the noises, trying to pinpoint where they were coming from. The seconds felt like hours. He crept along, using the shadows to cover his movements. It was the nurse's lounge that finally turned out to be the source. He pressed his ear to the door and listened. The murmur of voices rose to a fever pitch and resolved itself into words. One voice was Nurse Sayers and the other was a man. Murdock didn't recognize the male voice. It wasn't one of the patients and it certainly wasn't one of the orderlies. He listened and waited for further clues.

“You can’t keep asking me to do this, John,” her voice was strained. “People will start noticing that--” she broke off. “People are already noticing the bruises you gave me and it won't be long before they start to notice things going missing.”

Murdock almost stood up and pushed through the door. Almost.

The other voice, "John", spoke in a low growl. “You know I need this, Agatha.”

“Bull shit,” came her hissed reply. “You need morphine like you need a hole in the head!”

Murdock peeked through the door and saw her poke John in the chest.

“What you need is help, John," her arms fell to her side in a limp gesture of helplessness. "You weren't always like this. We used to be friends."

"What are we now?" he asked, a note of anger creeping into his voice.

"Enemies."

John made a strangled noise and struck Nurse Sayers across the face. She reeled backward as the back of his hand met her cheek. Murdock watched in horror as she tripped over the coffee table and fell, her head hitting the cinder block wall with a sickening crack.

He couldn’t hold himself back anymore ‒ Murdock threw the door open and pushed past John. “What did you do,” he turned to face the other man, but he was already gone. He grimaced at the spot where John had been standing moments before. “Coward.”

Nurse Sayers was unconscious, her head lolling at an alarming angle. Murdock shook her gently. When she didn’t respond, he scooped her up in his arms and started back to his room. The halls were silent after the noise of the fight.

“What happened,” Dietrich propelled himself forward on his cane. “She is hurt!”

“I think it was her ex-somethin’. He hit her and she hit the wall,” he shifted her weight in his arms. Nurse Sayers was turning out to be surprisingly heavy for a woman of her size. “She’ll be fine. I’m gonna put her in my cot.”

The elderly captain raised his eyebrows, but the expression passed. “Do you think that wise? Where are the orderlies?”

“Budget cuts,” Murdock flashed a quick grin. “And I've never been big on wisdom. Why don’t y’all get back t’ bed? I’ll play nurse tonight.”

Dietrich's eyebrows shot up again for a brief moment. “I don't doubt it."


	4. Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes it's been roughly three months, my apologies. Now, onto the chapter.

Murdock set Nurse Sayers on his cot and pulled the covers up to her chin. “Concussion, concussion,” he muttered. “What do you do for a concussion?” He rubbed his forehead. “Cold compress, that’s it, cold compress.” He rushed over to the mini-fridge Face had smuggled into him the previous summer. His last ice pack was shoved in the back corner between leftover Chinese food and what had, at one time, been a piece of pizza. It was half melted and made an unpleasant squishing noise when he squeezed it.

Nurse Sayers groaned.

He rushed over to the bed and pressed the ice pack to her forehead. “Hush now,” he murmured. “It’ll be OK.”

Her lips parted and she shook her head. “Charlotte! I have to get to Charlotte!”

“Who’s Charlotte?”

She shook her head but didn’t speak.

A thought occurred to Murdock. “Sit tight, honey, I’ll be right back.”

He made his way through the deserted halls until he reached the record room. Just as he expected, the door was locked. “Pockets! Pockets! Why do I have so many pockets,” he dug around until his fingers found what they were looking for: his set of lock picks. The lock on the record room door was just a standard deadbolt and his talented fingers made short work of it.

The inside of the record room was lined with file cabinets ‒ patients on one side and staff on the other. Murdock ran down the rows of drawers until he found the right cabinet. He wrenched open the door, leafing through the folders. “Sailor, Sanders, Smith ‒ hold on, went too far ‒ there she is,” he pulled it from the drawer.

Nurse Sayers’ file was two slots over from where it should have been. There was a disappointing lack of pertinent information. It listed her birthday, her vital statistics, some of her medical records, and her current address. There was no mention of anyone named Charlotte. He grabbed the page with her address on it and made his way to the nearest phone.

“Lou’s delivery,” said a gruff voice on the other end of the line.

“Face, it’s me.”

The voice resolved itself into his friend’s familiar nasal tones. “Hey, Murdock. What’s going on?”

“You remember Nurse Sayers?”

“Remember her? I have nightmares about her.”

“Well, she’s in some kind of big trouble. I can’t get an explanation out of her but I have a hunch,” he paused, trying to think of a way to voice his concerns. “If I give you her address will you go check on it for me?”

“Is she in any kind of danger?”

“Nothing immediate. Right now she’s asleep in my cot ‒”

“Murdock, you old dog!”

“It’s nothing like that, Face. I think she’s got a concussion. She keeps muttering about someone named Charlotte and I’ve got an idea of who that is. So would y’ please just check on her house?”

“Alright, alright! I’ll get BA to head over. What’s the address?”

Murdock read it out and voiced his concerns over what the team might find there. “I hope I’m not right about this,” he sighed. “It’ll mean she’s in a whole mess more of trouble than I already thought.”

“Would you quit worrying, Murdock? We’re heading right over!”

Murdock snorted into the receiver and hung up the phone. The hallways were still deathly quiet. He stopped and took a moment to drink in the silence. During the day, the corridor was filled with all manner of noises. The subtle beep of monitors; the urgent footfalls of the nurses and orderlies; the cries of the mad. He shook his head. It wouldn’t do him any good to let his imagination get the better of him.

He stepped back into his room to find Nurse Sayers awake and sitting up.

“What happened to me?” she whispered. “My head is killing me.”

“That John fella happened. Why didn’t you tell me you were having man trouble?” he sat on the edge of the cot. “I could have helped you.”

“Because it isn’t that simple,” she frowned, pulling the ice pack off her head. “What is _this_?”

“You can’t be any kind of nurse if you don’t know what an ice pack is. And I don’t appreciate you changing the subject. Who is John?”

She tried to sit up, but he pushed her back into the pillows. “If you’re worried about your daughter, I sent my friends to go and check up on her. Now would you please tell me what’s going on?”

“What friends? Mr. Peck and the others? Did you send the A-Team to my apartment? Mrs. Hunter will have a fit!” she paused. “How did you get my address?”

He cleared his throat. “I, uh, I peeked at your file,” he silenced her. “You weren’t awake and-- and even if you were you would’a said no. So I decided to take matters into my own hands; because, of course, I didn’t know how serious the situation was. Or if there was even a situation at all! Now would y’ please just tell me what’s goin’ on.”

Nurse Sayers crossed her arms. “I can’t even begin to tell you what a breach of my privacy this is. You need to learn to keep your nose out of other people’s business, Captain Murdock.”

He groaned. “Are you ever going t’ tell me what’s wrong?”

“I shouldn’t. But I know that if I don’t you’ll never leave me alone again. John is my adopted brother. My parents fostered him when we were ten and adopted him when we were twelve. They had high hopes for him ‒ he showed interest in medicine and law during high school ‒ but he developed some unsavory habits.”

“I heard a little of what y’all were talking about earlier. Morphine is a hard habit to kick.”

“His real vice is heroin. But he’ll take whatever he can get. We thought he overcame his vices just after he graduated college but we were wrong. He graduated top of his class at UC Berkeley. He was going to be the best lawyer California ever saw ‒ that’s what he told us at his graduation. Two years later he was destitute and living in a gutter in LA.”

Murdock pulled at his ear. “I’ve been there.”

“Then you have my sympathies, captain. It’s a horrible place. My mother wept the whole time we were there looking for John. Half out of shame and half out of worry. We found him and had him put in a clinic. A place like this,” she gestured at Murdock’s room. “That was when I decided that I was going to become a nurse. I wanted to help people who couldn’t help themselves. Which is also why I came here. There, now you have the whole story.”

“I also have questions ‒”

“Do you ever give up?”

“If I did, I would still be lying dead in a gutter in LA. How did your brother get out of the rehab center?”

“I don’t know. He approached me for the first time a few days ago. The day you noticed my bruise,” she touched her arm as if remembering the pain. “He twisted my arm, literally, until I agreed to get him morphine and then he twisted my arm again when I ‘didn’t get him enough.’”

“Have you told anyone else?”

She pulled at the covers. “I thought about calling my parents. In the end, I didn’t want to trouble them.”

“Well that’s just stupid.”

Her dark eyes flashed with anger. “Don’t you think I know that?”

“I do. Did you call the cops?”

“No.”

“That’s even stupider.”

“I didn’t tell you about this to have you call me stupid at every turn. How could I call the police about my own brother? It would destroy our mother. Even you can see that.”

He stiffened, sitting bolt upright. “ _Even_ me?”

She picked at the blanket. “I read your file, captain. I know that you’re an orphan. I’m sorry, it was in poor taste. It must be this damned headache.”

“You hit your head on the wall of the nurse’s lounge,” he reached for the ice pack. “Cinder blocks, y’know.”

“I hurt your feelings,” she touched his hand. “I am sorry.”

He pressed the ice pack to her forehead. “I know you are. Tell me about Charlotte.”

“She’s my daughter. What is there to tell?”

“Everything,” he laughed. “How old is she, what does she look like, what’s her favorite kind of candy?”

“She’s seven, she looks like me, and her favorite candy is Twizzlers. She’s everything to me, Captain Murdock. And I know you understand that.”

“I figured as much. Now tell me about Mrs. Hunter. I think you mentioned her earlier when I said my friends were on the way over to your apartment.”

“Mrs. Hunter is my nanny. We split the rent and she watches Charlotte while I’m at work. I hesitate to think about how she’ll react to three armed men breaking down the door in the middle of the night.”

He laughed. “They won’t break down the door. For all his faults, Hannibal is more subtle than that.”

There was a tap at the window. Murdock handed the ice pack to Nurse Sayers and sprinted over to the window. He grinned. “They’re here.” He opened the window.

Face stuck his head through the opening. “Miss me?”

“You know I always do. Did you find what I thought you would?”

“Not exactly. There were no sinister figures lurking in the shadows, but there was a royally pissed off nanny and a scared little girl,” Face grimaced as he crawled through the window. “We brought both of them back with us. They should be along any second ‒ if Hannibal can convince Mrs. Hunter that we’re not paid assassins, that is. How’s Nurse Sayers?”

“Slightly concussed, but otherwise fine. It’s good to see you again Mr. Peck.”

“Really? I seem to remember you threatening to turn me into the government if you ever saw me again.”

A laugh escaped her lips. “Circumstances have changed. How’s my daughter? Is she frightened?”

“She’s doing fine,” Face straightened his tie. “She was a little nervous at first ‒ I mean, who wouldn’t be if they were kidnapped in the middle of the night by three strange men ‒ but BA gave her a lollipop and on the ride over Hannibal told her the story of how we rescued Maria.”

“Now for the sixty-four dollar question: how is Mrs. Hunter?”

“Also somewhat nervous about being kidnapped in the middle of the night by three strange men. She didn’t want a lollipop and I don’t think she liked Hannibal’s story.”

Nurse Sayers grimaced and pressed the ice pack to her forehead. “As if the concussion wasn’t bad enough. She’ll be livid.”

A nasal voice floated through the still night air and through the window. “Mrs. Sayers! Mrs. Sayers, I demand to know why I have been used so abominably by these men!” The voice was attached to a woman of middle years and considerable stature. She squeezed through the window. “Who are they? Did you send them? I demand to know the meaning of this!”

“Lady, we told you,” Hannibal pushed through the window behind her. “We’re the A-Team.”

“Nonsense,” she scoffed, straightening her blouse. “I imagine the A-Team is somewhere in Mexico living large on their ill-gotten gains.”

Hannibal chewed his cigar. “Haven’t you seen their pictures in the paper?”

“Of course, they’ve been everywhere.”

He rubbed his face. “Ma’am, I hate to break it to you but, you’re a lost cause.”

“Well I never! Mrs. Sayers, I demand to know what is going on!”

“There was a situation, Mrs. Hunter, we had to get you out of the apartment and there was no time to warn you. Captain Murdock’s friends offered to go and pick you up. Surely they told you,” she glanced at Hannibal.

He shrugged. “We tried.”

A large African-American man pushed his way through the window and past Face. “Get outa my way, man, this little sister wants to see her mama,” he set the child down on the bed. “She was getting scared out in th’ bushes.”

“Thank you, Sgt. Baracus,” Nurse Sayers gathered her daughter into her arms and held her close. “We were worried about you, Lottie.”

“I know,” she whispered. “But I was OK. Sgt. Baracus gave me a lollipop.”

“He didn’t have any Twizzlers?”

The little girl regarded her mother with solemn eyes. “No. But that’s fine, I still like him a lot. Are you OK, mama?”

“I will be now that you’re here. Thank you, sergeant.”

BA stood with his hands held behind his back. “It’s no problem, ma’am. I only wish I’d had some Twizzlers.”

“Well, I have a problem,” Mrs. Hunter crossed her arms. “Imagine my surprise when, at four in the morning no less, three armed men burst through the door and informed me that I was in danger. If you would continue to imagine my surprise as they told me that the only antidote to this danger was to follow them to the VA hospital. And my surprise was furthered when they also told me that we would be visiting the secure psychiatric wing,” she tapped the toe of her sensible shoes on the linoleum. “And here I am with my surprise quadrupled as I find you lounging in one of the patients’ beds,” she looked Murdock up and down. “He doesn’t look sane to me.”

Murdock rolled his eyes as far back as they would go. “That’s because I’m not.”

Mrs. Hunter took two steps back and bumped into Hannibal. “It just isn’t safe!”

“Mrs. Hunter,” Nurse Sayers rose shakily from the bed. “Do you remember the situation that we discussed last week? The one involving my brother.”

She nodded.

“The situation has come to a head. John has made… certain threats against me and Charlotte that I just can’t ignore. As strange as it sounds, this is the safest place for you to be right now. Until, at least, I can rent a hotel room.” She took a few steps toward her nanny and stumbled. Murdock caught her by the elbow. “Thank you, captain,” she smiled. “Captain Murdock has been especially helpful, Mrs. Hunter. The fact that he’s going through a rough patch shouldn’t make him any less trustworthy.”

Face covered his mouth and coughed loudly. “What about the patients? We can’t just leave them alone all night.”

Nurse Sayers frowned. Charlotte was the first to speak. “Mama loves her patients. She wouldn’t leave them alone.”

“Then maybe she should leave the capable Mrs. Hunter to care for us,” Captain Dietrich crossed the room and stood next to Nurse Sayers. “You need not worry, dear lady, I will look after my fellow inmates until Mr. Sloan comes in at five. Cpl. McGuire will help me if things get too rowdy, but I doubt they will.”

“Are you sure?”

“I have been taking care of my fellow soldiers since I shot a Gestapo officer in the back of the head to save an English sergeant. I don’t think one sleeping psychiatric ward will offer up much resistance,” he put his hand on her shoulder. “Go, take your lovely daughter and find a safe place to hide. We can take care of ourselves.”

She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “ _Danke_.”

“While I admire all of this,” Face made a sweeping gesture with his hands, “gallantry. “Don’t you think it’s about time that we relocated to somewhere a little more secure than this place?”

“You’re right, of course,” Nurse Sayers said. “But where will we go? It’s not like I can afford to go renting hotel rooms left and right. I don’t think I can even afford to rent a _motel_ room at this point.”

“We’ll take care of that,” Hannibal lit his cigar, garnering a nasty look from Mrs. Hunter. “Face already has a place lined up, don’t you Face?”

Face pulled at his tie. “W-What are you talking about, Hannibal?”

“Oh, you know, that little place on the beach. The one you were bragging about last week. You said that you bought it for a song and it was all but move in ready.”

“I may have exaggerated that point somewhat.”

“Well, is it or isn’t it move in ready?”

“It’s… livable.”

“Then it’ll work,” Hannibal grinned. “Ladies, gentlemen, let's go to the beach!


	5. Five

Murdock flopped onto the bed and stared at the ceiling fan. He lay there, still and silent, listening to the sound of machine gun fire playing over and over in his head. The bed was soft and the room was warm. He couldn't ask much more of Face’s “livable” six bedroom beach-side retreat. His thoughts turned to Nurse Sayers and Charlotte. They were housed in the bedroom directly above his. He could hear Nurse Sayers pacing back and forth—the floorboards squeaking with each rhythmic step.

The clock read 2:45. The lingering sounds of war in his mind switched to the steady beat of helicopter blades. Finally, something he could sleep to. He closed his eyes and waited for sleep to come, but the sound of the helicopter was drowned out by the sound of Nurse Sayers’ footsteps. He sighed.

The stairs creaked under his feet. Her door was open, spilling light into the darkened stairwell, and he could see her moving around. “Late night?” He asked.

She stopped. “I think 3:00 counts as late. Or is it very very early?”

“You know I’m not talking about the time.”

Nurse Sayers stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her. “I don’t want to lay down just yet—the concussion, you know. I might never get back up.”

“Highly unlikely in my medical opinion. That mean’s there’s something else on your mind.”

“You mean that my brother is a drug addict? Or that he tried to kill me earlier tonight because I wouldn’t feed his addiction? Because neither idea is helping me sleep.”

“There’s no need to be snippy. I’m just trying to help.” He crossed his arms. “I heard you walking ‘round and I thought I might give you a little dose of the talking cure. Besides, I thought you might need some company. Excuse me.” He turned to leave, but she caught him by the shoulder.

“Wait. I’m sorry. I know you mean well. I just don’t want to talk here… I don’t want Charlotte to hear.” She took his hand and led him down the stairs.

For a brief moment he thought she was taking him back to his room, but she took a left turn at the bedroom door and they retired to the living room instead. Nurse Sayers alighted on the couch and pulled him into the seat next to her. 

“I never thought that Jonathan would do something like this. It’s so outside of his nature. When my parents started fostering him, the state told us that his family had a history of drug use and that his mother died of an overdose. But Jonathan...” she trailed off, staring at the carpet. “Our parents paid for a therapist. They thought it would help if he could talk to an impartial party. And it did! He flourished! He was a straight A student all through high school—did I tell you about this? I can’t remember, sorry,” she gestured at her head, “concussion. I just—I can’t believe that he would do something like this on his own.”

“What makes you think that?” Murdock took her hands and leaned forward. “Is there something you haven’t told me?”

“It was right before you and _Hauptmann_ Dietrich swooped in and saved me. Jonathan was trying to convince me to give him the morphine—trying to reason with me. He slipped. He told me he didn’t even want them for himself; he wanted them for a friend. Originally I thought he was lying so I would keep giving him the drugs. But now...”

“Did your brother mention any names?”

“He wasn’t making a lot of sense. It was like he couldn’t put the words in the right order to make me understand. Everything was so garbled. But there was something—I could have sworn that he said a name.” She snapped her fingers. “Marcus! I’m sure he said the name ‘Marcus.’ I remember it because, at the time, it was the only word I could make out. It was also strange because he doesn’t know anyone named Marcus.” Nurse Sayers looked at him, her eyes shining with tears. “This means that he’s innocent, doesn’t it?”

He squeezed her hands. “Anything is possible, darlin’, and you’ve got to have hope.”

“How would you know about that?”

The helicopter noise was deafening for a few moments. Murdock chewed his lip. “It’s the only thing that keeps me sane.”

She snorted. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Does this mean that you finally believe that I really need that room at the VA.”

“I always did. I was thrown off by your whole involvement with this,” she waved her hands around, “A-Team business. I knew that you were escaping and running off on adventures with them long before Mr. Peck came and weasled you out of the secure ward. But you do need their help—whatever little they can give you.”

“What I need is a good night’s sleep and I think you could use one too.” He touched her arm. “Go to bed.”

Nurse Sayers leaned in and kissed his cheek. “You’ll get through this. We both will.”

Murdock watched her leave the room before making his way to the kitchen. 

Face was sitting at the table reading one of Dickens’ heftier novels. He looked up from the page. “You’re up late.”

“Couldn’t sleep. I talked to Nurse Sayers for a while. She’s not having a good night.”

“Not surprising.”

“There’s something else.”

“Oh?”

“She thinks someone is influencing her brother. Someone named Marcus.”

Face put the book down. “Does she have any evidence to support this?”

“She claims that she heard her brother say the name ‘Marcus’ once. See, he was trying t’ convince her to give him the stuff and he slipped an’ told her that it wasn’t for him. It was for some guy named Marcus. I guess he thought it would convince her to go along and cough up the drugs.”

He held up his hands. “This could all be wishful thinking on her part. No one wants to admit that their brother could be a violent, drug addicted criminal. It’s not in human nature.”

“We won’t know unless we look for more evidence. You ever heard of a druggie named Marcus?”

“No, but I can guess where we might find him. If he exists, that is.”

Murdock pulled his friend from the chair. “Then what are we waitin’ for? Let’s go.”

*** * ***

The bass almost drowned out the sounds in his head. Murdock glued himself to Face’s side—even going so far as to grab the other man’s jacket. “What is this place?” He shouted over the noise.

“This,” Face replied, “is where we’ll find Marcus.”

They wove their way through the crowd. The club-goers were mostly young, pretty, and female. _Just the Faceman’s type,_ Murdock thought. True to his nature, Face winked at a tall girl with an afro.

She returned the wink and treated them both to a dazzling smile. “Can I help you find something, darling? Or maybe someone?”

“It just so happens that you can, doll. My friend and I are looking for Marcus. Is he in tonight?”

Her dark skin paled several shades. “You sure don’t beat around the bush, do you? I admire your drive.” She raised an eyebrow. “And I question your sanity.”

Murdock gave a little finger wave. “I’m CEO of the crazy company. My friend is depressingly sane. But we both want to know if Marcus is in.”

“Whatever you say, baby. Marcus is in his office.” She jerked her chin toward the bar.

Face grabbed Murdock by the jacket and pulled him toward the bar. “Are you really sure you want to go through with this?” He stopped at a green door just to the left of the bar. “This is where it gets real. If I knock on this door there’s no going back.”

He took a deep breath. “Yes, let’s get this over with.”

Face rapped on the door with his knuckles. It creaked open before he could even touch the doorknob. Dim light filtered through the open door, almost unseen among the flashing lights of the club. They peered inside. It was, by all appearances, a normal office with a desk, chair, and a few fake plants. A man sat at the desk, frowning at a pile of papers in front of him.

Murdock stepped forward. “We’re here to see Marcus.”

He looked up, straightening his shoulders. “What do you want him for?”

“We’re not really interested in him,” said Face. “We’re looking for Jonathan.” He rested a hand on his ribs. “He roughed up a friend of ours and we heard that it was Marcus pulling his strings. We wanted to make it clear to Jonathan that if he—or his puppeteer—go after our friend again it could mean trouble. Catch my drift?”

He nodded. “You’re clearer than crystal, my friend. I’ll make sure he’s kept on a short string.”

“Good. I wouldn’t want Crazy Louie to get upset and he gets really upset when his friends are roughed up.”

“You still haven’t told us where Marcus is.” Murdock snarled at the man. 

“Marcus is right here.” He spread his arms. “And who are you two?”

“I already introduced you to Crazy Louie. I’m Johnny Finn.” He held out his hand. “We also deal in… pharmaceuticals.”

Marcus laughed. “That’s an interesting way to put it. I like a little bit of respectability in our business. You’ve got style, Finn. Tell me, where is your ‘pharmacy.’”

“Now, now, that would be telling. But I can leave you my card.” Face produced a business card from thin air. “And we can talk. I’m always looking for new business opportunities.” He turned on his heel and strode out of the office. He didn’t speak again until he and Murdock reached the ‘vette. “Y’know,” he smiled, “I think your Nurse Sayers might be onto something.”

Murdock grinned. “Let’s tell her the good news.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm /deeply/ sorry that it's been so long. Pretty much what happened was that I got distracted by NaNo and then wrote a 35k love letter to Peter Cushing's Van Helsing and, well, I should be back to this now. Updates might be a little slow, because I have to restructure the plot a little bit before I post but I'll /definitely/ have something soon!!


	6. Six

After the dim lighting and flashing lights of the nightclub, the beach house's kitchen was blindingly bright. Murdock sat next to Face, his eyes fixed on Nurse Sayers. He watched for her reaction as Face droned on about their visit to the club. She flinched when he mentioned Marcus.

"I guess the long and short of it is that you were right." He frowned at her. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you."

She shook her head. "It's okay, you had no reason to. For a while, I didn't even believe myself."

Hannibal chewed an unlit cigar. "This puts a completely different spin on things. If someone is forcing her brother to steal and sell drugs he ceases to be a criminal and becomes a victim." He lit the cigar. "What drugs did he ask you for, nurse?"

"Oxycodone and morphine."

"Makes sense. They're both highly addictive and easier to get a hold of than, say, cocaine or heroin." He spun the cigar between his fingers, a little trail of smoke followed the movement. "We need to find Jonathan before he gets any deeper into this drug ring. Drug dealers are notoriously hard to get away from. BA, you're going to stay here with Mrs. Hunter and the little girl. Face, you're going to stake out the drugstore nearest to the club. If he's really that desperate for morphine and oxy, he'll try somewhere close first. I'm going to sit on the scanner and listen for any other robberies that might be connected."

"What about me 'n the nurse, colonel?" Murdock asked, leaning forward in his seat.

"I've got a special assignment for you and Mrs. Sayers, captain. You're going to go back to her apartment and wait for Jonathan."

Nurse Sayers grimaced. "You won't mind if I question your sanity, colonel?"

"Not at all, Mrs. Sayers, plenty of people have, but everything always seems to turn out okay in the end. In this case, you'll have Murdock for company. I've trusted him with my life many times, ma'am, and he's never failed me."

Murdock flushed with pride. "Thank you, colonel."

"You know I'd never lie about a thing like that, captain. Now, any questions?"

"I have one." Mrs. Hunter folded her arms. "I'd like to know why you're leaving me here with this big palooka when I could be much more useful if I went with Mrs. Sayers. She might need me."

Nurse Sayers touched the nanny's arm. "I appreciate it, Dolly, but Charlotte will need you far more than I will. I doubt Mr. Baracus is a trained nanny."

"You might be surprised," BA put in, "I volunteer every week at the orphanage on Sunrise. I could match you diaper for diaper."

Mrs. Hunter raised an eyebrow. "That's not a very nice part of town."

"Those are the kids that need love the most, ma'am, so that's where I go."

The nanny's face softened. "Just as you should." She frowned at Nurse Sayers. "Must you go? I'm not sure it's safe for you to be alone with that madman!"

"Captain Murdock isn't as mad as he looks." A smile pulled at the edge of her lips. "And I trust him. Don't worry about me; focus on Charlotte, she's going to need you today."

She nodded. "She won't even know you're gone."

*** * ***

Murdock frowned at the kitchen floor. After almost a half-hour of scrubbing, there was still a stain by the sink. It sat there, in all its sticky brown glory, and mocked his efforts. He knelt on the linoleum and attacked it with renewed vigor. He would win, the stain would lose. The subtle sound of concealed laughter drifted into the room from the doorway.

Nurse Sayers was standing there, leaning on the door frame. "I admire your tenacity, but it's not going to go anywhere unless you add more Pinesol to the water. Here," she crossed the room and fetched the cleaner from the cupboard, "just like this." She poured three capfuls into the water. "Try that."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"I do have a name, captain."

"So do I, nurse." He grinned at her over his shoulder. "You never struck me as a 'first name' kind a' person."

"Then prepare to be surprised, because I most definitely am. My name is Agatha."

He laughed. "Like the mystery writer."

"Exactly. Her book _Murder on the Orient Express_ was the first thing my father read after he mastered English. He owns her entire bibliography in Chinese _and_ English now and they're his favorites."

"They'd have to be for him to name his little girl after the Grand Old Lady of Crime."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"What's your first name? Your file only has your initials. Unless, of course, your name really is 'HM.'"

He smiled at the spot on the floor. "It isn't."

"Then what's your name?"

He splashed the sponge into the bucket and stood. "Howling Mad, of course."

"Highly unlikely," she chuckled. "C'mon, I told you mine."

"I was named after my mother's father. Henry Mortimer, if you're really interested, but I don't use it."

"You're right. It’s a little formal for you. I think HM suits you much better." She touched his arm. "Good job with the stain. You really showed it who's boss."

"I did, I did, and now I'm going t' do the same thing with the living room carpet. If you'll excuse me, I'm going t' get the vacuum." He brushed past her and stopped in the living room. The front door was open. "Aggie," he whispered, backing into the kitchen.

She turned from where she was washing dishes. "What's wrong?"

"Did you leave the door open?"

"Why would I do a silly thing like that with Jo--" She stopped, staring at the doorway.

Jonathan stood where she had been only moments before. "Hello, Agatha. I heard you and your friends were looking for me."

Murdock stepped between them. "We were. Your sister told us that Marcus had you in a bad spot and we wanted to help you."

The young man frowned at the space just over Murdock's left shoulder. "'Bad spot' is the understatement of the year. He's going to kill me if I don't get the drugs."

He heard Agatha let out a small gasp and felt her touch his back. Murdock instinctively reached for her hand. "Then let us help you. You might say that my friends and I get people out of bad spots for a living. You might even say we're good at it, too."

Jonathan sagged against the door frame. "I'm so tired." Tears slid down his cheeks. "I just want to go home—to mom and her funny little dumplings and dad and his murder mysteries," his voice cracked. "Help me, Agatha, I want to go home."

She flew across the kitchen to his side. "We're going to get you out of this and then you're going to go home and eat dumplings until the very sight of them makes you sick." Agatha kissed his forehead. "Murdock is right, his friends are the best in the business. They'll get you out of this."

The phone rang as if in reply to her words. Murdock answered it. "Murdock's House of Pizza, HM speaking."

"Very funny," Face's voice crackled over the line. "We've got another problem."

"What's that?"

"Someone just knocked over the pharmacy on Fifth and Main and the pharmacist swears up and down that it was our friend Johnny."

Murdock looked at the siblings. Agatha was cradling Jonathan in her arms. "When was this?"

"Couldn't have been more than ten minutes ago. I just missed running over the thief."

"Then we have more than one problem, good buddy, because Jonathan has been here for at least the last ten minutes. Someone's trying to frame him."

Jonathan looked up, his eyes red with tears. "It's Marcus, he's not going to let me go. I-- I owe him some money. I was stealing drugs to pay him back. He told me if I tried to get help he'd-- he'd--" his voice cracked again. "He'd kill Agatha."

"You hear that?"

"I wish I hadn't.” Face sighed. “What's our plan now?"

Murdock rubbed his face. "Why don't you swing 'round here and take us all back to the beach house. I think it's time to regroup. I'm sure Hannibal will know what to do."


	7. Seven

Jonathan didn’t speak again until they reached the beach house. Then he sat on the overstuffed chair in the living room and told his story. He started with college and how he had been so hopeful—but then finals rolled around and he needed something to keep him awake and coffee just wasn’t cutting it. At first, it was just a few uppers to keep him awake at night. Then it was a few downers to let him sleep between classes. And soon he was relying on them for everything. Until the day he ran out of money.

“I never knew who was behind all the drugs on campus and, to be honest, at the time I didn’t care. All I cared about were my grades and graduating on time with the highest honors possible. But it all changed when these two roughs dragged me out of study hall and threw me into the back of their car. They took me to that nightclub you visited. That was the day I met Marcus.

“He told me that if I didn’t steal drugs for him, he would cut off my supply. I was really addicted by that time. I was in too deep. I owed him close to five thousand dollars.”

Agatha let out a little cry of alarm. “How much do you owe him now?”

“Almost ten.” He looked at his hands. They were shaking. “I’m so far in debt that I’ll never get out. Between Marcus and UC Berkeley, I’ll be paying someone off until the day I die.”

“Why didn’t you come back to mom and dad? They would have paid for your rehab again!”

“I know. But I didn’t feel worthy. I don’t deserve their love. Or your love, Agatha.” He frowned, tears brimming in his eyes. “I need help.”

“That’s what family is for, John.” She flew across the room to his side. “I’m here for you. We’ll solve this, we’ll find a way to pay off Marcus and get your life back on track. You could still be the best lawyer California has ever seen.”

“That’s all behind me now.” Tears were rolling down his cheeks now. “I’ll never be anything but a failure.”

“We don’t cotton to that kinda talk,” Murdock said, standing. “We’ve all been through trials. Our trial was the war. Your trial was addiction. We’ll help you through this, good buddy.” He gave Jonathan a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Don’t you worry, the colonel is the best schemer in the whole world. Colonel?”

Hannibal steepled his fingers. “The easiest way to get Marcus off you back would be to pay him the ten grand--”

“I couldn’t let you do that,” John exclaimed. “It would just be going from one debtor to another!”

“Calm down, son. I wouldn’t do that to you. What I have in mind will get Marcus off _everyone’s_ back.”

“He’s got that look in his eye,” BA grumbled. “He’s on the jazz.”

Agatha looked at Murdock. “What does that mean?”

“It means the colonel’s got a plan.”

It took Hannibal less than an hour to hash out all the details and bring everyone up to speed. As soon as everyone understood, he started handing out assignments. “BA, you’re going to stay here and keep guarding Mrs. Hunter and Charlotte. If anything goes wrong I need you to get them to our nearest safe house and call the cops and explain the whole thing.”

BA nodded.

“Face, do you still have that friend who works at the studio?”

“I do.” He grinned. “I get warm just thinking about her.”

“Easy, Lieutenant. I need you to get some prop drugs. Tablets, bales of marijuana, something that looks like cocaine. Maybe powdered sugar, whatever works. It just needs to look good. And don’t get distracted while you’re there—I need you back by midnight.”

“Why the timetable?”

“One, I’d rather not leave anything to chance and two, I need you to play your part as Johnny Finn, unorthodox pharmacist of Beverly Hills. I’m going to be out and about doing my own prep.”

Face raised an eyebrow. “What kind of prep?”

Hannibal grinned past his cigar. “The kind you don’t need to know about yet. I’ve gotta keep some secrets. Captain,” he addressed Murdock, “You and Mrs. Sayers are going to the costume shop. We need makeup and fake blood—stat.”

Murdock took Agatha by the arm. “Shall I drive?”

“Not a chance.” She snatched the keys from his hand. “You’re clinically insane and, besides that, you don’t have a driver’s license.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the length of this one, guys, but the next one is going to be fairly action heavy and I didn't want to bog it down with all the planning Hannibal does ;) I'd also like to thank y'all for the amazing reviews and kudos and 300+ views this little fic has!! You guys are the reason I write!!


	8. Eight

Murdock sat on top of the van, swinging his legs in the cool morning air. Today was the day they took out one of the biggest drug rings on the west coast--and for what? For Johnny Xuan Li and his big sister Agatha. _Mostly for Aggie._ Murdock frowned at the passing thought. Today, of all days, he needed to be focused on the task at hand.

It was Jonathan who was in trouble. Jonathan who was in the crosshairs if they failed. If the drugs didn’t kill him, the drug dealers would. His life was the one on the line. But it was still Agatha who floated through Murdock’s head when he thought about the mission.

The sun slowly rose over the horizon, painting the sky delicate shades of pink and orange. He slipped off the van and made his way into the kitchen.

Face was already up and dressed in Johnny Finn’s black shirt and bright pink tie. “Morning,” he said, stirring cream into his coffee. “Today’s the day.”

He slumped into the chair and picked at his fingernails. “A lot’s riding on today.

“What’s the matter with you,” Face joined him at the table. “We’ve done hundreds of cons--in fact, I’m almost sure that we’ve done _this_ con before. What makes this one any different?”

Murdock snuck a glance at the hall, trying to catch a glimpse of Agatha’s door. “She does. If one little thing goes wrong, Jonathan is gunna die and I’m the one who has to face _her_ and her parents. I’m the one who’ll have t’ tell them how their little boy died trying to clean up his life.

Face stared at his coffee cup. “Then I guess we’d better get this right the first time around.”

“I guess so. Did you get those fake drugs Hannibal asked for?”

“Of course I did. You know how the colonel is when he everything isn’t just so. Did you and Mrs. Sayers get the stage makeup?”

“For a song, good buddy.”

Face stood and patted his friend on the cheek. “That’s what I like to hear--I love a man who knows how to budget. Do you wanna see the icing on the cake?”

Murdock nodded.

He crossed the room and fished around behind the coffee pot. “This little bag is going to convince Marcus that we’re the real deal.” he produced a bag of fine white powder.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“Columbia’s finest marching powder.” Face grinned. “It was just lying around at the local precinct. Anyone could’ve taken it and hurt themselves, so I took the liberty of taking it for safekeeping. Besides, you never know when you’re going to need a kilo of cocaine to lure a dangerous gang of drug dealers into a trap.”

“What’s that?” Agatha stood at the doorway, pointing at the bag in Face’s hand. “Because it looks like cocaine.”

“That might be because it _is_ cocaine.” Face said. “You should always bring a little bit of realism to your part and, well, Johnny Finn is a drug dealer.”

“Is it really wise to have that in the house when Jonathan is here?” She folded her arms. “He might have a relapse.”

“Your brother’s drugs of choice were heroin and morphine. Besides, he’s stronger than that. Aren’t you, John.”

Jonathan Xuan Li stepped out from behind his sister, his eyes fixed on the baggie. “You’re right.” His hands shook. “I only tried cocaine once. I took too much and it almost killed me--but the high was fantastic.”

Face tucked the bag into his pocket. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Jonathan nodded.

“Good. It’s powdered sugar.”

“It’s w-what?”

“Powdered sugar. I didn’t really rob the local cops, that would be suicide. Especially for someone wanted by the army, the FBI, the CIA, and about a hundred other three letter agencies. I didn’t need CHiPs or the DEA on that list. So, it’s powdered sugar. Here, taste it if you don’t believe me.” He tossed the bag to Jonathan.

He held it, his hands still shaking, and stared at the carefully sealed package. “No, I don’t need to taste it. It’s already almost killed me once. I don’t need it.” He tossed the bag back to Face. “You’re a really bad liar, Mr. Peck.”

“I hope not.” Face tucked the bag back behind the coffee maker. “Your life depends on my lying abilities.”

“Your lying abilities _and_ Hannibal’s scheming.” Murdock grinned. “I wonder who’s better?”

“If the hordes of women we’ve met over the years are any indication,” Hannibal said, entering the room, “Face has miles on me.” He pulled up a chair and sat at the table. “C’mon, we’ve got things to do and not a lot of time to do them.”

Everyone circled around the table.

“First of all, we’re going to kill Jonathan--”

“We’re what now?” Jonathan exclaimed.

“I know it sounds bad. But, it’s all part of the plan. The only way this is going to work is if Marcus thinks you’re dead and Johnny Finn killed you. Everything hinges on that--well, that and Face’s lying abilities. Alright, kid, you’re on.”

“Do you really think Marcus will be up at this hour?”

Hannibal frowned at him.

“Right, we’ll never know unless we try.” Face picked up the kitchen phone and started dialing. “I don’t think he’ll believe me.”

“Then it’s time to prove yourself wrong.” Hannibal tapped his ash onto a nearby saucer.

Face cleared his throat and waited. He tapped his toes. “He’s not awake.”

“Patience, lieutenant.”

“Hello, Marcus? This is Johnny Finn. I just wanted to call and tell you that we took care of Jonathan Xuan Li for you.”

There was a brief pause as Face listened to Marcus’ reply.

“No, no, I don’t want anything from you. Unless… Well, unless you’d like to make a mutually beneficial deal.”

Another pause.

“The kind that will make us both rich. I just got a shipment of _asprin_ in from Columbia and I need someone to push it for me. I’d offer you a discount, of course, since you’re a fellow pharmacist.”

The silence that followed was longer than the previous two by what felt like an eternity. Murdock watched his friend make disgusted face after disgusted face at that whatever Marcus was telling him over the phone. He felt someone grip his shoulder and looked up to see Agatha’s anxious expression. She, too, was watching Face talk.

He hung up the phone. “We’re doing the world a service by taking that man off the streets.”

“What did he say?” Hannibal asked. 

“He bought it--hook, line, and sinker. We’re lucky.”

“Luck doesn’t come into it. We’ve got good planning.” Hannibal put his cigar out. “Alright, as soon as breakfast is over we’re going to start prepping. We’ve got one chance to get this right, and I don’t want to dwell on what will happen if we don’t. Understood?”

****

*** * ***

Murdock sat on the couch, his knee bouncing in anxious anticipation of the night’s work. The minutes ticked by like they were hours. He watched the second hand tick around the clock--somehow it still didn’t go fast enough for his liking. It was still an hour until they left for the warehouse and he was already dressed in Crazy Louie’s bright white suit.

It all felt real. Too real for their typical con. The drugs, despite what Face had told John, were real. The dealers were real. The only fake things about the whole operation were Face’s Bogart impression and the grease paint on Jonathan’s face.

It was real.

He shook his head, willing himself to stay grounded. He was Captain HM Murdock of the Thunderbirds and the US Army Air Force. He was part of an elite group of mercenaries called the “A-Team” and they were on their way to stop one of the worst drug dealers on the west coast.

Hannibal entered the room with Agatha in tow. “For the last time, you are not coming.”

“Jonathan is my brother and I think I should be there to protect him.”

“And how, exactly, are you going to protect him?”

“I can shoot a gun as well as the rest of you! And I’ve had self-defense classes. Murdock, tell him about the self-defense classes!”

“Oh sure,” Murdock said, “this little Chinese fella named Boomer taught her.”

He frowned. “With all due respect, Boomer is Jackie Chan’s character from _Twin Dragons_ and, at 5’9”, I would hardly call him ‘little.’”

“He’s littler than me.”

“That’s enough, Murdock! BA is going to take Mrs. Hunter and Charlotte home and, Mrs. Sayers, you’re going with them.”

*** * ***

The warehouse was lit by a flickering incandescent light bulb that swung in lazy circles over Face’s head and a series of spotlights that Hannibal had set up to cause confusion. The spotlights bounced off various bits of strategically placed metal, leaving trails of dust and light in their wake.

Face leaned against the hood of the van, checking his watch every few seconds. Hannibal was in the driver’s seat, smoking a fresh cigar. The acrid scent filled the van, burning the back of Murdock’s throat.

He was huddled in the back of the van, gun in hand. Agatha sat just to his left, her fingers curled around the grip of a small pistol.

Murdock smiled at her. It took a special kind of person to defy Hannibal’s express orders and she was that kind of person. He touched her arm. “Penny for your thoughts.”

Her grip on the pistol tightened. “I’m thinking about Charlotte and what will happen to her if we fail.”

He swallowed. Should anything go sour, it was his job to take the Sayers family and Mrs. Hunter and not stop running until he was certain that Marcus would never find them. Hannibal hadn’t told Agatha about this part of the plan. It was, after all, just a contingency set up in case of emergency. He found himself calculating the distance to Mexico as he answered her.

“Everything is going to work out in our favor. We’ve got Hannibal Smith on our side, how can we lose?”

“I’m flattered at your confidence in me, captain,” Hannibal said, his eyes never wavering from the back of Face’s head. “But the only real factor that matters here is Marcus.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.” Murdock took off his hat and smoothed the hair back from his forehead. “If anyone can deal with him, it’s Face.”

“I sincerely hope you’re right.”

As if on cue, a slick black Cadillac rolled into view. The driver’s side door opened and Marcus oozed out of it. He grinned at Face and spread his arms wide.

“Johnny Finn,” he shouted, “my favorite pharmacist.”

Face returned the smile. “Marcus Brown, my favorite chemist. How goes the business?”

He shrugged. “I dunno, you tell me. Did you really kill Jonathan Xuan Li?”

“I did.”

“Where’s the body?”

“I’m offended that you would think me so careless. I would never keep a body longer than absolutely necessary.” Face straightened his cuffs. “For one, they start to smell and you know nothing attracts the cops faster than the stink of a corpse.”

“No offense meant. I just want some proof. You can understand how a man in my position needs to be cautious.”

“Will this work for you?” He tossed a ring at Marcus.

Marcus spun the thin golden band around his pinky. “What’s this?”

“Johnny’s graduation present from his mother. It’s inscribed inside the band.”

“I can’t read Chinese.”

“Then you’ll have to take my word for it, won’t you?”

The air in the back of the van was nearly unbreathable. Murdock took great gulps of it, trying to calm his nerves. It all hinged on this moment and Face’s lying ability. If Marcus didn’t believe him about the ring--which was genuine--it would spell their failure.

Marcus spun the ring around a few more times. “I guess I will. Now, what about that aspirin.”

“Crazy Louie has it in the back of the van.” Face rapped the hood of the van twice. “Louie, get those pills out here. Our friend wants to see them!”

That was Murdock’s cue. He shot Agatha a reassuring glance before he launched himself out of the van. “This what you’re lookin’ for?” He tossed the bag of cocaine to Face.

“Perfect.” He grinned at Marcus and slit the top of the bag. “It’s the good stuff, you wanna take it for a spin? You’ll have a trip you never forget.”

Marcus held up a hand. “I never touch the stuff myself. I’ve seen what it can do to a person. I’ll take your word for it. Wrap it up and I’ll distribute it to my testers.”

“And how will you be paying for this little business transaction? Cash, credit, or check?” Murdock gritted his teeth and gave Marcus his best grin.

Face touched his arm. “You’ll have to excuse Louie; he likes his little jokes now and again.”

“Cash, of course.” He returned Murdock’s grin with a feral one of his own. “When does your next shipment come in?”

“Sometime next week. The cartels like to shroud their deliveries in mystery--it makes them harder to catch. Why?”

“I’ve got a client who wants some quality Central American aspirin. But he needs it by Thursday. Do you think your shipment will be in by then?”

“Should be. How much do you need?”

“How much can you get me?”

“Depends. How much money do you have?”

“Enough to buy at least a pallet. But I only need a few kilos.” He paused, examining Hannibal. “Who’s he?”

“Just my driver. Why?”

“You didn’t strike me as the kind of man who has a driver. I’m starting to think that you’re some kinda LEO.”

Murdock tensed.

“I assure you that I’m not _any_ kind of law enforcement. The whole idea is distasteful. And as for your “aspirin,” let me call my guy with the cartel. I should be able to get you a kilo or two just like that.” Face snapped his fingers.

The spotlights snapped off, leaving the warehouse washed with an eerie red light. For a few moments, the only sound was the soft purr of Marcus’ Cadillac and the humming buzz of the single light bulb.

Marcus flicked his lighter open. “What the f--”

He never to finish his sentence. In the middle blackness, just over Face’s shoulder and past the van, Jonathan appeared, his face painted a ghastly shade of white. Blood dribbled from the side of his mouth. His hair was wet and he gasped for breath with every shuffling step.

Jonathan held out his arm and pointed at Marcus. “You…” He trailed off as if lost in thought. “You killed me?”

“No, no! It was Johnny! Tell him,” he screamed, frantically looking for Face, “Tell him it was you!”

Face and Murdock listened to Marcus’ screams for help from their spot in the back of the van.

Face examined his fingernails. “Did Marcus have any heart problems? It’d be a shame if he expired before we could turn him into the cops.”

Hannibal shrugged. “BA and I checked his medical records before we put the con together. His last EKG was completely normal. Mr. Brown will live a long life--provided that his past doesn’t catch up with him, that is. Now, shall we see how Jonathan is making out?”

Jonathan was standing over Marcus, dripping putrid river water on his face and whispering ‘murderer’ over and over again in various tones of agony. “You,” he said, letting pain creep into his voice, “are responsible for my death. My mother will cry tonight because of you. My father will close his little bookshop. My sister and her daughter will wear black. Charlotte,” he leaned in close, biting the second blood capsule in his mouth and dribbling it over his lips, “will never know me as anything but her deadbeat uncle who was addicted to drugs and it’s all your fault.”

Face stepped out from behind Jonathan and smiled at Marcus. “Had enough?”

He uncovered his face for just long enough to nod. “Get him away from me!”

“Jonathan Xuan Li, I declare you alive!”

The lights snapped on.

Jonathan pulled a red handkerchief out of his pocket and rubbed his face. “You didn’t tell me how the capsules would taste.” He spat. “They’re horrible.”

“Ah, but all for a good cause.” He smiled. “Marcus is going to be behind bars for a very long time. Provided, of course, that you’re willing to testify.”

“I would do anything to stop him getting back on the streets.”

“Did you hear that, Marcus? You’re going to jail for a very, very long time.”

*** * ***

“I guess this is it, isn’t it?”

Murdock leaned against the wall just outside his window. “I guess it is.”

“The nightmare is finally over.” Agatha played with her fingers. “At least, it is if Jonathan really wants it to be.”

“Don’t worry. I think your little brother is gunna be just fine. And if he hangs on to those acting tips that Face gave him, he’ll be the best lawyer in California in no time.”

She smiled. “I think he can do that all on his own.”

“Your brother is one special guy.”

“I know.”

He took off his cap and smoothed his hair back before putting it back on. “Listen, Aggie, I don’t know why I’m talking about Johnny right now, but--”

“But I do. You’re nervous, Captain Murdock.”

“What on Earth would I have to be nervous about?”

“This.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed him softly.

“Well. Right. That.”

“Have you decided what you’re going to do about it?”

“Honestly, I’ve been too caught up in the con. And, if I’m _really_ being honest, I’ve been avoiding it.” He took her hands in his and spent a few moments studying her knuckles before continuing. “Aggie, it’s been a long time since I’ve had anything approaching a steady girlfriend. Sure, I’ve had dates, but they’ve just been so Face’s dates’ friends have someone to drink cocktails with. Besides, it’s not going to be much of a relationship with me locked up in here.”

“What if you were declared sane?”

“Then I would be tracked down by the US government and prosecuted for treason. The only reason I’m not in Leavenworth right now is that I’m legally insane. So, unless you have a presidential pardon in your pocket, this isn’t going to work.”

She touched his cheek. “I wish it would.”

“Me too.” He brushed his lips across her knuckles. “What’ll you do?”

“Well, I’ll have to transfer. I can’t keep working here if I have feelings for one of the patients. Besides, I think my parents would like it if I were closer. Mother called just the other day and wanted to see how Charlotte was getting along.” Her eyes brimmed with tears.

“How is she getting along?”

“Top of her class. The smartest girl in school.”

“So just like her mother.”

Agatha smiled. “And you said Jonathan was special. _You’re_ the special one, HM.”

He kissed her this time, taking in the scent of her hair and the way her lips felt against his. She was soft and smelled of oranges. “I’m gunna miss you, Agatha Sayers.”

“And I’m going to miss you, HM Murdock.”

“What should I tell the other patients?”

“Tell them that another hospital needed me and that they’ll all be fine without me.”

“And what about that crazy captain in room 202? What’s he gunna do without you?”

“Oh, him? He’ll be fine. You see, he isn’t really insane. He’s just pretending and, someday, I’m going to come back with a presidential pardon and free him from this place.”

He pushed her hair away from her face. “You make a convincing argument, I almost believe you.”

“Didn’t you hear? My brother is the best lawyer in California.” She wrapped her arms around Murdock and pressed her face to his chest. “Together we can do anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's all folks! I can't believe I finally finished this!! It's been over a year since I first wrote it. It's been a long journey with me--and all of y'all--coming to accept the fact that I am a REALLY SLOW writer. Thank you so much everyone for the kudos and the comments, they really kept me going through all the writing slumps!
> 
> And, as for Murdock and Aggie, maybe they'll make some more appearances in the future!
> 
> Good luck and Godspeed,  
> <3 Chelsea


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